


Great Gatsby, Jeeves!

by illogicalbroccoli



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, Jeeves & Wooster
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illogicalbroccoli/pseuds/illogicalbroccoli
Summary: Bertie briefs Jeeves on the complicated love life of Jay Gatsby
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	Great Gatsby, Jeeves!

"Jeeves," I said. "Rally round."

"Sir?"

"May I enquire, Jeeves, if your diet has had the requisite amount of fish lately?"

"I have, sir, become rather partial to the local delicacy of New England Clam Chowder."

"Well, that's more or less fish, isn't it?"

"Taxonomically, sir, I rather doubt it; but gastronomically I believe that fish and clams do fall under the general rubric of 'seafood.'"

"Glad to hear it, Jeeves. I suppose you're wondering why I'm so keen to know what you're loading into the old feedbag?"

"Sir?"

"The fact is, Jeeves, I need your brain in tip-top working order. Your steely attention is required for what is turning out to be one doozy of a situation."

"Indeed, sir?"

"It's about this cove Gatsby."

"I am familiar with the gentleman, sir."

Not surprising, of course. I think Jeeves checks out a copy of Who's Who for America every time we take one of our transmarine jaunts, because when we arrive he is completely au fait, if that's the phrase I want, with each individual swirl of the cream of Atlantic Seaboard society. Now this Gatsby blighter was a fairly new addition to the c. of s., so it might have been surprising that Jeeves was already familiar with the gentleman, but after all this was Jeeves. 

"Are you also, Jeeves, familiar with the doolally in which he has tumbled himself?"

"If you would be so good as to enlighten me, sir."

"Right. Well, Jeeves, here it is. The whole dark and stormy tale. A real whopper of a story. Jeeves, I tell you that we've encountered a number of bally scrapes in the course of our adventures but this scrape is one of the very balliest."

"Do tell me, sir."

A bit stiff that, I thought, since that was what I was at that moment doing. But when one has the great blessedness to have Jeeves on one's side, one can bear with equanamity the odd bit of superciliousness (if that's the proper word). 

"Righto. Now, the story starts when this cove Gatsby was a young soldier, all ready to ship out to the War. It so chancèd that through some friend of a friend of an acquaintance or other he got invited to an evening party at the New England estate of some oil-baron or railway tycoon or some such. And, to make a long story short, he clapped eyes on a young lady there and was hopelessly smit. Thought she set the place alight, as the Shakespeare chap said."

"I believe you are referring to the young Romeo's statement, upon seeing Juliet, that 'she doth teach the torches to burn bright,' sir."

"Quite so. Anyway, the attraction appeared to be mutual, but having not the proverbial penny to his name (which, incidentally was not his own but an adopted nom de whatchemecallit), Gatsby was reluctant to press his suit, knowing that the parental response would be decidedly negative. And in any case he was whisked off to France or Belgium or somewhere to be shot at by Germans for a year or so before he could even think of suit-pressing anyway."

"An all too common ending to romantic entanglements in time of war, sir."

"Ah, but it is not the ending Jeeves. Not the ending at all. Because though he got shot at a fair deal, he didn't actually get hit, and he came back home to America safe and sound and with a fair amount of military whatsits clinking on his chest. So, he thinks, now's my chance to snare said beautious maiden. Her name was Daisy, by the by. Don't think I mentioned that before. Anyway, Gatsby comes back to America beribboned and fresh-cheeked, and sets about making a bit of money by means which might, if looked at by an unforgiving eye, not seem entirely honest. But who are we to judge, Jeeves?"

"Who indeed, sir?"

"Anyway, having made a few million, Gatsby pops down to New York with the express intention of going down on one knee before said Daisy. One can picture the chap saying to himself, 'how could she (or her parentage) say no? Is he not, as Americans say, loaded? Is he not, to boot, a war-hero with ribbons and shiny things to prove it? And I think you would agree, Jeeves, and under normal circs. the whole thing would be something of a shoe-in."

"Indeed, sir. The attractions of military success to the fairer sex have been remarked upon by any number of judicious commentators."

"Quite so. But, Jeeves, and here is the nub of the problem, in the interim – is that the word I want?"

"Exactly right, sir."

"Thank you, Jeeves. Yes, in the interim, the o. of Gatsby's affections had toddled off and gotten  
herself hitched to another feller."

"Most distressing, sir. Varium et mutabile semper femina."

"What's that?"

"The poet Vergil, sir. Woman is a changeable and inconstant thing."

"Ah, well put. Well put indeed. Next time you see the chap, tell him that Bertram Wooster gives his compliments."

"Very good, sir."

"Anyway, being a most changeable and inconstant thing, this Daisy, as I said, far from tying yellow ribbons around the old oak tree while Gatsby was away, tripped up the aisle with the first chap who threw a few bouquets in her direction. And wait till I describe the cove. Name of Tom Buchanan. Great, hulking brute, not much brain, likes horses, has ideas about racialism and whatnot. Rather reminiscent of our old acquaintance Spode, now that I think of it."

"Indeed, sir, men of forceful personality are frequently drawn to illiberal political philosophies."  
"I'm sure you're right, Jeeves. In any case, Daisy went and married this Tom and forgot all about the  
penniless lieutenant – or lootenant, as they say in this neck of the woods."

"Absence doth not always make the heart go fonder, sir."

"No, Jeeves, it doth not. It doth not indeed. Now, if this Gatsby were a level-headed, both-feet-squarely-planted-on-the-ground sort like you or I, he would simply sigh 'what-ho' and scoot off to find a new amour. But Gatsby is not a level-headed sort, Jeeves. To make a long story short, he is a fathead."

"I had gathered, sir, that the man could indeed be described as having a romantic and quixotic nature."

"No, Jeeves. I shall have none of this whiting of sepulchres. The man is a fathead. I see no cause to go blithering on about romantic and quixotic natures when all one really means fathead."

"Very well, sir. You say tomayto, I say tomahto."

"No I don't!"

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"I jolly well don't say tomayto! I haven't been in America so long as to lose my natural-born English tongue, Jeeves!"

"No, sir, I – "

"Gatsby says tomayto, I don't dispute it. As does Tom. But Bertram Wooster, never."

"Quite so, sir. I was merely quoting the musical number written by the brothers Gershwin, which appeared in the motion picture _Shall We Dance_ produced by RKO Radio Pictures and starring Mr. Frederick Astaire. My purpose was to indicate that different terms can be used to refer to the same phenomenon."

"Ah. I see. But Jeeves, pray be more careful in future. It will not do to have you appearing to criticize the young master's locution. Will not do at all. Not feudal."

"I am most sorry, sir."

"Think no more of it. Let us resume. As I was saying, being a fathead this Gatsby does not drown his sorrows and then go back on the hunt; rather, he purchases a house just across the bay from Tom and Daisy's place and sits there staring moonily at the green light at the end of the dock. That, and holding great swinging parties in the hopes that Tom and Daisy will, one of these days, drop in and he may discretely pick everything up where he left off, ignoring the inconvenience of husband and child – did I mention she had a child? Well, I have now. Now Jeeves, does this sound like a sensible plan?"

"I would venture to say, sir, that apart from a number of ethical consideration, it would seem somewhat unsafe, sir. Especially given what you have told me about Mr. Buchanan's character."

"Quite so, Jeeves. Tom is definitely the sort of man who would go in for the whole beating-to-a-jelly lark if he caught someone 'messing about with his girl' as the local lingo has it."

"Most distressing, sir. May I therefore conclude that Mr. Gatsby is unfamiliar with the character of the young lady's husband?"

"You may not, Jeeves. Not one whit. Gatsby is well aware of Tom's character, but, being, as we have now firmly established, a fathead, he simply ignores it. Pays no notice. It passes by him like the idle wind which he respects not. You see, Gatsby has it in his head that the moment she sees him she'll throw Tom over and go back to him and it'll all be right back where it started."

"Possibly a somewhat over-optimistic prediction, sir. It is my experience that, having settled upon a secure marriage, a wealthy young lady is very unlikely to abandon it purely out of motives of the heart. There are, of course, exceptions sir, but I were I Mr. Gatsby I would not be sanguine."

"Quite so, Jeeves. Quite so indeed. The problem is, though, that you are not Mr. Gatsby, nor Mr. Gatsby you. Mr. Gatsby is Mr. Gatsby and a fathead. The problem, Jeeves, as I diagnose it, is that he's spent too much time thinking about all this. You know how it is – for a couple of years of sitting in the mud getting shot at by Germans, and then a couple more years of doing legally questionable things in smoky rooms, he's been consoling himself with the thought of seeing Daisy again, thinking about how wonderful it'll be and all that, until he's completely forgotten what she's actually like. She became some sort of – what's the word I want, Jeeves?"

"Feminine Ideal, sir."

"Precisely. Feminine Ideal. And take it from me, Jeeves, the last thing Daisy Buchanan is is a Feminine Ideal."

"Very likely, sir. No amount of fire and fancy can match what a man can store up in his ghostly heart."

"Is that so?"

"I believe so, sir."

"So you see the sitch."

"Very clearly, sir."

"Does a solution present itself?"

"Not at this juncture, sir."

"Well, start thinking. This could all end very badly, Jeeves."

"The narrative does have a certain tragic shape to it, sir."

I sighed deeply.

"Life, Jeeves, can be deuced awkward."

"Yes sir."

"What ho, eh Jeeves?"

"What ho indeed, sir."


End file.
